You're Undead to Me
by jamiesmiless
Summary: Ricki Saltzman, the daughter of Isobel Flemming and Alaric Saltzman, has arrived to Mystic Falls to learn about her father find the truth about her and her life.
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1:**

_I never imagined my life turning out like this. I always believed I would grow up, fall madly in love, get married, have children, and grow old. It was the circle of life, a life we all deserve to live. Yet, this life didn't appeal to me somehow. My attention became fixated on finding an answer and I became mad in attempting to search for any solutions that would point me into that direction. However, I now feel things I never expected to feel and know things I wish I never expected to know; things I didn't realize existed. In my mind, the end result was different. All of my research and all of my findings aimed to a diverse outcome. It indicated to a means of escape. That means of escape, though, is far from just that._

"Ricki, get in the car! We're leaving," my mother demanded. Her voice was stern and full of authority and out of fear of getting in trouble, I obeyed. I scooped my Powder Puff Girls backpack and Lola, the brunette fairy Cabbage Patch doll my mother gave to me for my fifth birthday, off of the oak hardwood floor and slung the bag over my shoulder.

"No, Ricki. You're not going anywhere." He reached out to grab me and my shaking shoulders. He pulled me closer to him with his large, callous hands as his thumb made reassuring circles on my shoulder. My father's light blue eyes were full of pain and confusion as he asked her, "Isobel, what in God's name are you doing?"

"Something I should have done a long time ago, Ric." My mother snapped her head towards me, glaring unambiguously as she spouted evenly, "Ricki, get in the car."

I hesitated leaving the warmth of my father's clasp. I couldn't comprehend what was conspiring between my parents or why my mom desired to leave our home. I could not grasp why my mother was so infuriated with my father. They never fought…

In a flash, my mother sped over to me and ripped me away from my father's strong grip with ease. Tears sprang to my eyes and began to slide down my cheeks. "No! Daddy, please! I love you! Don't make me go!" I cried out desperately as my mother shoved me into the back seat of her black Escalade and slammed the door shut.

"Isobel, stop! You cannot take our daughter away from me! This isn't right!"

He ran over to the vehicle, but in a blink of an eye she was in front of him, standing guard and threatening his fate if he dare took another step. "It is better this away, Alaric."

There were other things said, but I couldn't make them out. I held Lola close to my chest as I sobbed, tears blurred my vision and I could hardly catch my breath. My father's voice was boisterous and booming while my mother's was calm and even. I peered at them through the window. Although my vision was clouded, I could see that they were at a standstill and he was hanging on to every word she said. She eventually raised her hand and pushed his hair back, just as she always did when something bothered us. She then slipped a ring onto his finger and gave him a peck on the cheek before climbing into her Escalade and turning over the ignition.

I turned around in my seat and saw as devastation crept onto my father's sallow face. He fell to his knees on the front lawn of the home I grew up in and buried his face into his hands, weeping hysterically. We sped away; distance stretching between us and I sat facing his direction until I could no longer see his face. My shoulders shuddered violently and I suffocated Lola in a desperate embrace as I gasped for breath through the constant tears.

My mother peered at the rear view mirror and sighed. In a soft voice she said, "Everything I do is for you, sweetheart."

"Something to drink?"

The image fleeted from me and I blinked, folding the piece of paper, slipping it into my jacket pocket, and bringing myself to the present. I looked up at saw the scruffy bartender. His thick, dark eyebrows were lifted slightly as he waited for my response. With a sardonic grin, I brushed my hair behind my ear and leaned forward. In my most seductive voice, I whispered, "If you're offering."

That's when I saw it. The gold band glimmered in the sunlight streaming through the windows. It rested on his finger and captivated my gaze. The bartender's thin lips were pulled back into a polite smile as he looked down at his hand, peering at the object that caught my attention.

"Fifteen years."

"Huh?" I met his eyes once more. His words finally caught up to me and I realized what we were discussing. "Oh, that's wonderful. You must be so… proud."

"Yeah, I am." He beamed. "I'm a pretty lucky guy. Enough about me though. Can I get you something to drink?"

"Um…"

This man was married; he probably had a home to go to where his family was waiting. Yes, _family. _Th_e _word panged in the depths of me and overtook me in waves, leaving me uneven. A wedding band was a symbol of loyalty and love and I felt hypnotized by the sight of it. Any desire that had previously consumed me vanished immediately. I let out an unsteady breath; I had to get out of here. "Never mind," I said, shakily as I slid off of the bar stool. "Thank you for your time, but I have somewhere I need to be."

He nodded. "Well, welcome to Mystic Falls." He smiled once more and returned to wiping down the bar. "Thanks for stopping by The Grill."

I forced a small grin and headed out the door. The sunlight greeted me instantaneously, and peered at it. I slowly reached up to touch the antique necklace that hung around my neck and pushed the thought of my mother away. Far, far away.

I hurried down the road, ashamed of my thoughts and actions in the bar. What did I plan on doing to that poor man? What had I become? Was I really that selfish? I blinked and shoved the thoughts from my mind. I needed to focus on the task at hand.

"Welcome to Mystic Falls." The bartender's words rang in my ears. I had finally arrived to the destination I felt could provide me with the answers I desired. The place described as an ordinary town with extraordinary secrets.

I knew I needed a place to stay and rest and I knew exactly where: the abandoned Salvatore boarding house.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2:**** Truth or Die**

The image of the Salvatore boarding house I had concocted in my head was definitely not close to its reality. In fact, it was much better. Large glass stained windows surrounded the property and vast cherry wood doors stood as strong royal guards, protecting those who resided. Three long brick steps led towards the entrance and were lined with dry plants who were hanging on a sliver of hope for survival.

I made my way up the steps and rapped my knuckles against the intimidating door. No answer. I glanced around the front of the house. During my trek from Mystic Falls to this mansion over the hill, I noticed the windy road that lead towards the manor did not appear to have seen many visitors, if any at all. The absence of cars lining the driveway and the cobwebs hovering in the corners of the windows seemed to scream vacancy. In fact, the place appeared as though it had been neglected for quite a while.

"Hello?" I called out. I knocked again - louder this time. No sound emerged so I wrapped my fingers down on the handle and pushed down. The door creaked open slowly; far enough for me to peer in.

I took a cautious step through the entryway, awestruck by the beauty of this place. Inside, the mansion was even more magnificent. The furniture and décor seemed to be from a different era. Grand curtains draped over the windows, allowing very little light to stream in, and extravagant rugs lined the hardwood floors while Victorian style fixtures garnished the palace. My fingers reached out to touch the nearest end table that was adorned with a glass green-shaded lamp with a brass base. The dust bunnies that clung to my finger as I traced the edge seemed to reassure any doubts I had; this house really was deserted.

I listened for any sign of life, but only silence echoed so I slipped my tan leather jacket off and tossed it onto the couch. I could not believe I had this entire place to myself! I kicked off my boots and snapped on the radio that sat on the English Victorian Gothic-style mahogany bookcase. As a catchy tune greeted my ears, I tugged at the elastic hair band that fastened my dark golden brown hair in a loose ponytail. I shook out my mane, wriggled my small hips, and danced to the beat. With the rhythm I began to feel myself gradually let go. Any stress or worries that accumulated on my journey here seemed to vanish with every note and every chord. I had made it safe and sound and I was one step closer to learning the truth about... everything.

Christina Aguilera's voice consumed me as I shouted at the top of my lungs, "All I wanna do is love your body! Oooooh oooooh! Tonight's your lucky night-"

"You promise?"

I snapped my head and peered at a man who seemed to be in his mid to late twenties. His dark hair fell onto his face, framing his devilish smirk as he turned off the music with the remote that was in his grasp and took a step closer, examining me from a small distance with his piercing blue eyes. "Come on! Don't stop singing on my account! I was really enjoying the show. Plus, you were just getting to the good part."

I recognized the man as Damon Salvatore; one of the Salvatore brothers and he wasn't the nice one. His merciless reputation wafted through me as my eyes darted around the room for any signs of an escape, but he stood in front of the only door in sight. My stomach churned and fright trickled its way in. "I-I shouldn't be here," I managed to mutter.

His eyes narrowed and his voice was crisp and cold. "You're right. You shouldn't."

A small pause ensued before he lurched at me in a flash. I zoomed past him as he fell onto the floor near the hefty redbrick fireplace. A gnarl escaped his lips. He jumped to his feet and chuckled menacingly. "You're full of surprises, aren't you?" The man snatched the fireplace poker from its designated spot and swatted it in his hand. "Why don't you and I play a little game? Truth or Die?"

My pulse quickened as Fear wrapped its icy tentacles around my still heart. "I didn't mean to intrude. I didn't think anyone lived here."

Damon seemed to consider what I said. I thought back to all of the stories I had heard about him and his screaming silver-blue eyes. Tales I used to call them, but if those tales were true, then Damon Salvatore could snap me in two with just his pinky. Not only was this man ruthless but he was over 150 years older than me.

"Yeah, we're not big on house cleaning." His thin lips were tugged into a wryly grin as he twirled the fireplace poker in his grasp as though it were a baton. "Come on! Let's play!" In a singsong voice, he added, "It'll be fun!"

I gulped. How in the world was I going to get myself out of this mess? I knew if I told him everything I was as good as dead. I needed leverage; something that forced him to keep me alive.

I jutted out my jaw in faux confidence and narrowed my gaze at him from across the room. There was no way I was going to have my fears on display for him to see. "All right. I'll play, but what do I get out of it?"

"Hmm. Good point. You mean other than your life?"

"I don't really trust you with that."

Amused, he snickered. "Are you sure we haven't met before? I feel like you already know me." He paced the living room, studying me carefully with a dark thick eyebrow cocked. "Fine. You're right. Look, if you answer all of my questions _truthfully_ I will allow you to leave here unscathed. How does that sound, princess?"

While I didn't trust nor like the terms, I knew it was my only chance of departing this mansion intact. I nodded my agreement.

The man pirouetted with the fireplace poker before meeting my gaze and with mock glee, he dove right in. "What are you?!" He acted as though he were both petrified and enthralled of what I could be or that he didn't have the slightest idea. Both of which I knew were inaccurate.

I swallowed; my nerves were surging within me. I definitely expected this emotion to have died along with me. I squeezed my eyes shut and stuttered, "V-V-V-"

"I'm sorry!" He sped over to me in a flash; his complacent egotism returning instantly. "I don't think I heard you clearly," he growled, only inches away from me. "What did you say?"

The words escaped my lips deliberately and reluctantly. "Vampire," I whispered in the pungent aroma of dust and this creature's profuse arrogance.

"Louder."

"Vampire."

"Again!"

"Vampire! I'm a vampire! There!" I spouted, sparks of anger flashing in the irises of my eyes. "Are you satisfied?"

He ignored me and sauntered across the room, grazing the bookshelf as if he were uninterested while the truth sliced through me, leaving me uneasy. I had never admitted the words aloud – never confessed the truth of my existence. This was the first time since the moment I'd turned that I had even uttered the word.

"Next question." He spun around to face me and raked his fingers through his dark hair, pushing it out of his face. "Why don't you tell me how you heard about this place?"

My mother's words rang in my ears as a siren of warning. _Whatever you do Ricki do not mention me or Katherine._

I paused, not completely sure of how to address this question. My hesitation seemed to cause distrust and alarm and as the fellow vampire's crystal blue eyes surveyed me ominously, I knew that fireplace poker would be square through my heart if I didn't do something and fast.

"The game is called _Truth_ or Die," he said coolly, his face callous and emotionless, "And it appears you've chosen the latter."

Ebony veins instantly formed around his eyes and his once azure irises were now a beady black. His eyebrows were furrowed as a snarl escaped his lips, showcasing his fangs. Just as he and his patch of dark hair lurched towards me, knocking me to the ground, I cried out desperately, "Lexi Branson sent me!"


End file.
